


We Don't Have To Dance

by orphan_account



Category: Andy Black - Fandom, Black Veil Brides
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Boring Party, F/M, Party, Rebellion, Song Lyrics, Songfic, Teenage Rebellion, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-02 02:04:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6546010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>...High Society parties and rebellious teenagers never was going to be a good mix...</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Don't Have To Dance

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of rushed this, and I will go back and proof read it, but until then I'm sorry for any mistakes that are in this work.

 

 _ **Andy**_  

 

  

  

I slipped the shades lower over my eyes, pulling at the starched collar of my white button-down shirt and wriggling uncomfortably in my tuxedo. I hated parties - or more so, I hated the parties my parents attended. Galas, high-society balls, benefits: all was all so rigid and just _boring_. Everyone there was living off their grandparent's _grandparent's_ money, and hated any aspect of creativity that wasn't pre-socially approved.

 _Monet?_ Fabulous. _Picasso?_ Wonderful.

 _KISS?_ Disgusting. _Alkaline Trio?_ Horrifying.

Snobs.

 

"Now, Andrew, you will behave tonight, won't you darling?" my mother asked, looking hopeful.

For her, I smiled and nodded: "Of course, Mom."

 

As people in my life went (aside from my non-family approved friends) my mom wasn't bad. She respected my music tastes, liked the artwork I created even though it wasn't anything light or colourful, let my band practise in the basement. She was supportive of me...even though she hated all the things I liked.

My father was a different story:

 

"He better." he said darkly, glaring at me over the newspaper he was reading in our limo: "I'm sick of making excuses for his bad behaviour and rudeness. It's embarrassing and I will not tolerate it any longer."

 

I rolled his eyes, ignoring him entirely.

It was nothing I hadn't heard before. And it was an entirely empty threat - I was his own child (legitimately, anyway), and that meant that - if he wanted someone to carry on the family multi-million business - he was stuck with me and my bad behaviour. Doing that was the last of my intentions, but on my Mom's advice I hadn't told him that...it was probably the only thing keeping me from being disowned at this point, and at only sixteen, it was probably better I had somewhere to live.

Even if it meant going to parties like this.

They were a million miles from being my thing. The kind of parties I enjoyed had blasting rock music, whiskey in plastic cups, people with tattooed necks and tattooed hands having sex on other people's couches...or maybe that was just my friend Ashley. Nothing like the marble floors and chandeliers, delicate crystal champagne glasses and diamond-studded women of the kind of the party this was. Filled with mindless polite chit-chat and fucking awful political views.

Still...one night a month, that was all my mother asked of me. And for her, I could stand this shit. So I sat quietly, ignoring the pounding behind my eyes and the vodka that was literally sweating about of my system. The sun was already down and so at least I wouldn't be there too long.

 

Once we got to the Durrells - at least I thought it was - I was forced out of the car and introduced to a plethora of faces I wouldn't remember and hoped I wouldn't see again. All except for one auburn-haired girl in a strapless black dress that was tight around her torso to her waist, where it faired gently down to just below her knees, fading to light, dove grey as it did so. Her neck was bare, ears dripping black diamonds and her feet encased in towering black heels that made her almost as tall as me: "...and this is Elizabeth Ferguson."

"Our daughter is the same age as you, Andrew dear." Elizabeth's mother smiled friendily: "Perhaps the two of you would get along."

 

Elizabeth rolled her blue eyes and flounced off. Bitch. Clearly thought she was too good to hang out with the 'emo' kid, as I was known amongst the teenagers she probably hung out with. Judgemental pricks.

But still...with both sets of our parents glaring at me, I took myself off after her. Better to be ridiculed by her and then slip away quietly than spend the rest of the night having to follow my parents. I was seen as pathetic enough as it is - I didn't need that as well.

 

When I finally caught up to her, Elizabeth Ferguson had draped herself over a stone bench on a balcony, listening to an iPod that she had produced from...somewhere. I probably didn't want to think about where. As soon as she caught up to me, she glared at me venomously and ripped her headphones out: "Look, sycophant, I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to go inside and dance with you. I don't want to go and smile like some spineless viper at people I can't stand. I don't want to be your new best friend. What I do want is to be left the fuck alone."

 _Sentiments I could respect_ : "We don't have to talk, we don't have to dance, we don't have to smile, and we don't have to make friends. I don't want to do any of that shit with you either."

"Good."

 

We sat in silence for the rest of the night, me smoking and texting Ashley with my bow tie untied and my sleeves rolled up, her drawing on some paper she'd pulled out from under her skirt, and a pen from the same place...and just like the iPod, I didn't know how.

And I didn't want to either.

I didn't to know how she stored so many things under skirt...maybe a pocket...or maybe she was wearing a garter around one of her long, pale legs...maybe it was black and lacy...wait, what?

Thankfully the time passed quicker than I was used to, and my phone signalled I had a text - from my mother, telling me my time was up. Thank fuck!

 

"Did you manage to meet Elizabeth?" Mrs Ferguson asked with a smile as she and her husband waited for their daughter as we waited for out limo.

"No; I never managed to catch her in the crowd." I lied, making sure to look appropriately disappointed.

"That's a shame dea- Oh! Here she is now! Elizabeth, darling, this is Andrew Biersack, Chris and Amy's son!"

"It's so nice to meet you - let's never meet again." the auburn haired girl smirked, before ducking into her family's limo and ignoring her parent's horrified exclamations and chagrin.

 

I laughed all the way home.

  

  

 

* * *

 

  

  

  

"How was the posh people party?" my friend Ashley taunted when I was over at his the next day, wiggling his eyebrows: "Bang any hot chicks?"

"Oh yeah - there were a billion rich bitches, all throwing themselves at my crotch. It was wild." I rolled my eyes at him: "In reality, it was fucking awful. As always."

Jinxx shook his head, always the optimist of the group: "C'mon, Andy, there must've been at least one redeeming feature?"

I shrugged: "I dunno...there was a pretty cool girl there, I guess."

"Get in, Biersack!"

"Shut up, Purdy." I sneered: "It wasn't like that. I just mean we sat in silence and didn't piss each other off while we were there. She's actually the best teenager my own age that I've met. You guys don't count; you're all older."

"But was she hot?" Ashley asked.

Of course it was the only thing he cared about: "Yes, Ashley, she was hot. But she was also a self-righteous, stuck up rich bitch. I'm not going to get involved."

"Fucking her is not getting involved."

 _Only Ashley Purdy could see sticking part of your anatomy into someone else as 'not getting involved'_ , I thought rolling my eyes: "Yes, Ashley. It is."

  

  

  

* * *

  

  

  

The next month the monthly party I was forced to attend was at the Ferguson's house. Which I was actually sort of looking forward too. Although I didn't _like_ Elizabeth Ferguson, I didn't actually  _dislike_ her either. I was apathetic, and since apathy was preferable over scorn, I was hoping I just spend the night with her again, pretending that she didn't exist at all and like I was all on my own.

So (against my better judgement) I didn't get drunk the night before, actually made an effort with my hair, and put on some cologne before I left the house - instead of my mother shoving me a comb and a bottle of aftershave in the car. Elizabeth was going to hard enough to convince to tolerate me as it was: I might as well make a good impression from the start. It had nothing to do with her pretty blue eyes.

Really.

After doing the meet and greet - which I intentionally made my family be the last to arrive for, much to my Mom's amusement, I smiled as we walked in with the Fergusons and our parents chattered mindlessly:

 

"Elizabeth, this is Andrew Biersack." Mrs Ferguson smiled: "You remember?"

Elizabeth scanned me up and down, her face bored even though I could detect the glimmer of mischief in her eyes: "Never seen him before in my life."

"Andrew, surely you remember Elizabeth?" my Father prompted.

"Nope."

 

Our parents made noises of disappointment and we left - separately, of course. I watch her hips sway away in the floor-length, strapless ball gown she wore, the dark green material hugging her slender figure as she climbed a set of stairs, emerald chandelier earrings glinting in the low lights.

After I few minutes I discreetly followed her up the first flight of stairs, and she gestured for me to wait on a balcony while she disappeared up a second flight...and reappeared a few moments later with a small stack of graphic novels. Including Batman ones.

Elizabeth was a _goddess_.

 

I reached out for the nearest Batman book, only to have it held just out of my reach: "What are the rules?"

"We don't have to talk. We don't have to dance. We don't have to smile. We don't have to make friends."

"Fabulous." she smiled with saccharine sweetness, handing me the comic: "Here you go."

 

Once more we spent the evening in silence, reading graphic novels while I smoked and Elizabeth swigged absent-mindedly from a silver hip flask. She had her legs thrown comfortably over my lap, and I was resting my book against her ankles, and that was how we stayed until I got the text from my mother informing me it was time to leave.

 

And this time it was my turn to say: "It was so nice to meet you - let's never meet again."

 

I saw her smile out of the back window until we turned out of the drive.

  

  

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 _'So, did you see your crush and wife-to-be again last night?'_ Ashley taunted over the phone as soon as I picked up the phone.

 

I put the phone right back down again.

  

  

  

* * *

  

  

  

"We don't have to talk. We don't have to dance. We don't have to smile. We don't have to make friends." I recited to Elizabeth when I found her at the next month's party, smirking.

She returned the smirk half-heartedly, but shook her head at me: "I want to be on my own for real this time, Biersack. Go find someone else to brood with."

I was going to, but then I noticed that she looked...off. Her lower lip was trembling oh-so slightly, and her eyes were glossy...she looked like she was about to cry. And I couldn't leave her like that: "Only if you tell me what's bothering you."

"Fuck off."

"No."

  

I deliberately sat next to her balcony - handing her my tuxedo jacket when I noticed she was shivering slightly.

Really, it was probably more down to emotion than to the temperature _(it was a fairly mild night, even if you were wearing another strapless dress)_ , but even so Elizabeth seemed to take comfort in the gesture. She curled herself in inside the material, barely even breathing as she tried to regain her composure. To her credit, she did it quickly - a testament to her upbringing. Ladies never lost their composure, it was one of the things I both respected and hated about high society women. It was impressive...but I didn't trust anyone who could hide their emotions that easily.

 

"So," I said after about ten minutes: "What's wrong?"

"I..." she sighed: "Follow me."

  

Elizabeth grabbed my hand and dragged me inside, upstairs and into a white-marbled tiled bathroom with a black marble counter and gold fixtures. She locked the door behind us and boosted herself up on the counter, looking...tired under the bright bathroom lighting.

I mean, she was still gorgeous. Her naturally auburn hair was piled neatly on top of her head, a few tendrils escaping to hand against her elegant neck and pale shoulders. For the first time since I'd known her she was wearing a necklace: a simple black ribbon choker with a small diamond pendant hanging against the hollow of her throat, matching the small crystals decorating the black silk of her (again strapless) cocktail dress. Her long legs were as beautiful as I had maybe imagined them, and her feet were again encased in black stilettos that made her almost the same height as me. But all the same...she looked worn down and tired, ready to give it.

It was a look I never would've imagined on someone as commanding and defiant as her.

  
"How can you even _stand_ it, Biersack?" she started suddenly, breaking the silence that had reigned for a few minutes: "I mean...why is there so much joy in all this poison? They disgust me: the false smiles, the lies, the back-stabbing. And they bring me down to their level - I fake all these smiles and all this confidence, and for what? So I have enough freedom to escape for the occasional weekend: drive far, far away to just capture some excitement? I can't...I can't _take it_ anymore..."

"What do you mean?" I asked softly, not daring to move any closer to her in case I spooked her.

"I mean I'm a hazard to myself." she muttered: "I'll break it to you easily Biersack - _this is hell_. I am in hell. And I can't take it anymore."

"Look," I started: "Just don't...don't do anything stupid...okay?"

"I won't." she shook her head: "At least...not in the way you're thinking."

 

We passed the evening in silence, until Elizabeth got a text that, for the first time tonight, made her crack a smile.

She stood, handed my jacket back to me with a small, genuine smile - the first one I had ever seen on her. It made her extraordinarily beautiful...but I had a horrible feeling it would be both the first and last time I ever saw it. But there was nothing I could do about it.

 

"It really was so nice to meet you, Andy." she smiled: "We're never going to meet again."

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

"I...just...I miss her, you know?" I said to Ashley as we lay on Jinxx's, another friend of ours', couch: "And I'm worried too."

"She said she wasn't going to do anything stupid." he tried to reassure me.

I snorted, rolling over to raise and eyebrow at him mockingly: "How many times have I said that? And how many times have I then gone on to do something stupid sometimes quite literally _seconds_ afterwards?"

"...Fair point." Ashley nodded: "But she was just one of those rich bitches, Andy. Let her go, forget her - it's exactly what she's done to you."

"Shut up, Purdy!" called a familiar voice as the door into the house slammed: "You know girl's minds the same way I know rocket science."

"Fight me, Ferguson!" Ashley responded, spreading his arms in a 'bring it' gesture even though the woman he wanted to 'fight' couldn't see him. It was probably exactly why he was doing it.

Jinxx, however, was in sight; having just walked into the room: "You threatening my baby sister, Purdy?"

"No, Jinxx, never, Jinxx."

"That's what I thought."

 

Ashley and Jinxx both laughed it off after a few seconds, neither taking the threat seriously. The pair of them had known each other a long time, longer than I had known either of them, and as such Ashley was allowed to say things like that to both Jinxx and his sister. Because he knew them. And he knew that (if she was anything like her brother) they could hurt him.

Jinxx may be short, and remind me of a bunny rabbit at times, but holy shit could he be scary when he wanted to be.

I assumed his sister was exactly the same.

The face that, the first I saw of her was when she had her head buried in a kitchen cupboard: kneeling on the counter and digging around in there for something, did nothing to dispel that assumption. Her boots were scuffed, her jeans torn, and her long auburn hair was wild and rumpled.

 

"Here - do you want any help with tha- Elizabeth?"

Her pale face looked startled, before it spilt into a wide grin: "Andy!"

"Oh my fucking God!" I yelled, dragging her into a hug: "I thought...I thought...I didn't know what I thought, but it wasn't good!"

"I'm sorry! I just had to get away from it all...and I wasn't sure if your parents would force it out of you if they knew. Fuck knows _mine_ would have called the cops."

"Your parents are assholes." I laughed with her. The amusement glinting in her bright eyes made her beautiful, absolutely stunning.

 

All between one heartbeat and the next, I remembered exactly what I felt for her.

The amusement when she told me she never wanted to meet me again, the horror on our parents' faces. Lust at the thought of her legs (yes, not exactly romantic, but I was a teenage boy - shit happened!). The shock and awe when she gave me Batman comics. Worry for her when she told me she couldn't do this anymore. The sadness when I thought I had lost her.

The way I was in love with her.

 

"Elizabeth...I...I need to tell you something..." I breathed.

 

She cocked an eyebrow at me, waiting for what I had to say. I struggled thinking of a way to phrase it...before deciding that it would be better just to show her.

I leaned down, giving her plenty of time to pull away before I gently pressed my lips to hers.

Elizabeth kissed back eagerly, one of her hands cupping my cheek: the other in my hair, as one of mine rested on the back of her neck: the other on her waist, keeping her close to me. Our tongues fought for dominance, teeth nipping gently at each other's lips as a low, strained groan escaped my throat.

 

"What the fuck is going on in here?!"

I heard Ashley laughing at Jinxx's explosive reaction to walking in on me and his sister: "Let it go Jinxx; he's been in love with her for months. Come with me," he said, presumably pulling Jinxx away from the kitchen: "And I will explain all."

 


End file.
